


Arthur Shappey, You're Up!

by Wayoming



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst, Arthur Shappey's Life, Childhood, Episode: s01e06 Fitton, F/M, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-28 05:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayoming/pseuds/Wayoming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is Arthur Shappey. This is his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

“Dad! Look!”

  
Arthur is six years old. He is not a clever boy. He has spent the last twenty minutes constructing an alphabet puzzle. Mostly wrongly. When he does however finish the puzzle, with all the right pieces in the right place and _everything_ , the first thing he wants to do is show his Dad.  


  
His father barely glances at the completed alphabet before returning to his newspaper.  


  
“Very good Arthur.”  


  
Arthur is too young to understand the boredom in his fathers voice.  


 

  
-  


 

  
  
  


Arthur has brought home a collage. He had looked at all the brilliant colours and shapes and fabrics and paints, and he had decided to use them all. The resulting optimistic presentation of his collage to his father is enough to make his mother wince. She knows how he will react. Her heart breaks for Arthur as all he says is “Yes Arthur… very nice.” He leaves the room and Arthur runs into his mothers waiting arms. Arthur thinks maybe his collage wasn’t as brilliant as he thought.

  
Arthur is 7 he first time his daddy shouts at him. Arthur isn’t even sure what he had done to make him so angry. All he could see was the anger in his eyes.  


  
Mummy makes Arthur wear a long sleeve shirt to school the next day, even though it’s hot outside.  


  
Arthur learns quickly not to bring things to his father. He learns quickly when to leave him alone. What is harder for him is learning that his dad really isn’t a nice man. Arthur begins speaking less. Only when spoken to. Then he begins only answering in monosyllabic tones. Then mere nods and shakes of his head. Arthur stops speaking altogether. His father doesn’t notice.  


  
Arthur goes on being a normal boy. He is silent, and clumsy. In the year that Arthur stopped talking he broke three bones, used up countless boxes of plasters and came down with several variations of the common cold, giving him a perpetually runny nose. But being a hearty child Arthur continued his silent adventures unabated.  


  
He has interests. He likes animals, and being outside. But nothing comes above wanting to work with his Dad.  


  
Arthur wants to be a pilot.  


  
In the times that his mother tried especially hard to get him to speak she would talk to him about planes. He wouldn’t respond. But he would listen. He would warm her heart with the small, careful, smile he would have when she talked to him about planes.  


  
The next time Arthur speak he wishes he hadn’t.  


  
He is nearly nine when he sees his father strike his mother for the first time. He had been sat in bed, small arms wrapped tightly around hunched up knees. The sound of angry murmurs leaking through the floorboards. He heard them getting louder and louder. He uncurled himself and padded quietly down the stairs and listened silently at the living room door.  


  
They were arguing. Arguing about him. Mum’s usually strong voice had become shaky. Arthur didn’t want Mum to cry.  


  
His father didn’t like how much Mum babied him. He is shouting about how she should treat him like a boy should be treated. He didn’t want any son of his growing up to be soft. To be a pansy. His mum is arguing hard, saying if you bothered to speak to your son, Gordon, maybe he would speak again!  


  
It wasn’t until he heard his father call him an idiot that he pressed the living room door open a crack. His father thought he was stupid.  


  
He could see the room, see his mothers face, tear streaked, firming and growing angry, as she squared up to his father. Her voice became dangerously quiet.  


  
“Well if he is you know where he gets it from.”  


  
A tense silence is suddenly broken as his fathers palm swings across and makes contact with a sickening crack.  


  
Arthur sees red and rushes into the room.  


  
“Hey! Leave Mum alone you- you- you horrible man!”  


  
His fathers eyes flash in his direction, and his mother moves to Arthur before he can take a single step.  


  
“Come on Arthur, time for bed.”  


  
Arthur can see the nasty red mark on his mother’s face, and the tears in her eyes. She takes him by the hand and leads him out of the room. She paused long enough to turn and say  


  
“Gordon, you are a bastard.”  


  
The next morning Arthur wakes early. He comes downstairs to see his mum sat at the kitchen table. He stands next to her. His father has gone to work. He takes her hand and she looks up from her nearly empty cup.  


  
“Do you want me to make some tea Mum?”  


  
She smiles,and pulls him into a hug.  


  
“Yes please Arthur.”  


  
Arthur doesn’t ask why his father doesn’t come home that night. He only wants his mummy to be happy. He’s not bothered but what his father said. About him being an idiot. All Arthur wants to be when he grows up is a pilot. Over dinner he asks Mum how planes fly.  


  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

 

Arthur has his heart broken when he is eleven. He had joined his new public school, and liked it, really he did. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t run as fast as some of the other boys, or that he wasn’t very good at football, or that they made fun of him for making paper hats with Captain written on them. Arthur didn’t care. All Arthur cared about was his Mum being proud of him…and planes. But mostly Mum. He goes about his business, trying really hard to remember everything he needs to, because his new school is much harder than before. He does really well until his form tutor gets ill.

Miss Hooper was young and clever and pretty and Arthur thought that she was the best person he’d ever met. 

“Good morning class!” she said softly “I am Miss Hooper, I am going to be your form tutor until Mr Humphries returns.” Smiling kindly at the class, her eyes fell on Arthur, “What’s your name?” 

“Ar-Arthur Shappey, Miss.” Arthur squeaked. 

“Well Arthur Shappey, could you be a big help and be responsible for fetching the registers after lunches?” Arthur blushed right to the tips of his ears. 

“Yes Miss-Ma-am-Missum-Miss Hooper.” 

Arthur buried his face in his hands, feeling hot and embarrassed as the class tittered around him. Miss Hooper merely smiled and said 

“Thank you Arthur. That would be brilliant.” 

And for a while it was. Arthur would finish his lunch hour ten minutes early to fetch the register. Miss Hooper would be sat behind her desk and would smile sweetly at Arthur whenever he turned up, would talk to him about anything. She’d ask what classes he had that afternoon, whether he was particularly good friends with any of the other boys and what his best subject was. Best of all, in Arthur’s opinion, was that she would listen to him talk about planes. About different types of planes he knew about, about his Dad buying planes, about the times he’d been on one and, best of all, he told her about wanting to be a pilot. She wouldn’t sigh like other teachers, or make fun of him like the boys did, she listened. After nearly a week she even starts calling him “Captain Shappey” when he comes in. 

Arthur knows that when he becomes a pilot he wants Miss Hooper to fly around the world with him. He tells her so. 

“Maybe one day,” she giggles “First Officer Hooper has a nice ring to it.” And to Arthur that means it’s settled. 

After two weeks Arthur can’t imagine anyone else he loved more than Miss Hooper. Except his Mum, obviously. It is a big surprise then when he walks into his form room next Monday morning to find Mr Humphries, red-faced and grumpy, readying himself for morning registration. Arthur’s stomach drops and he just about manages to ask where Miss Hooper is. 

“Miss Hooper? She’s gone lad. Was only filling in for me while I’ve been getting over the ‘flu.” 

“Oh.” 

When Arthur goes home that afternoon he doesn’t say hello as his mother opens the door. He rushes up to his room, throws himself onto his bed, and cries into his pillow.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Arthur is fourteen when he has his first kiss. It’s quick and unexpected and he didn’t know why Meredith had done it.

Meredith was fifteen. She had blonde, straight, hair that she always had in bunches. She likes Arthur because he’s not scared to talk to her, Arthur likes her because she smells of strawberries. 

She had started walking home with him because she only lived a road away, and Arthur liked to think that he was walking her home. Arthur was what his mother called a _gentleman_ and would walk Meredith to her door, _to make sure you get home safe_ , before retreating back to his own house. 

After they had been doing this for a while Meredith did something that surprised Arthur. She held his hand. She laced her fingers with his as though it were the most natural thing in the world. She didn’t mention it. After a little while Arthur stopped blushing and stuttering whenever she did it. He would just hold on, and walk her home. 

He told his Mum and she smiled and said “Oh really?” 

Arthur couldn’t see there was something his Mum wasn’t saying. That he was growing up so fast. That she could remember the days where he wouldn’t talk. 

Arthur and Meredith were best friends. She had said so. Arthur hadn’t had a _girl_ friend before, but he thought Meredith was great. So being a girl didn’t matter. They would talk about lots of things on their walks home. Meredith like horses. She had a slight lisp and Arthur come hear it more when she was talking excited about horses. He never mentioned it. He knew she didn’t like her lisp and he didn’t want to upset his best friend. 

On the day Meredith kissed Arthur he had been talking about polar bears. 

“And they don’t have fur, they have little tubes-“ 

“Tubes?” 

“Yeah, and they make them look white, but they’re not. They’re _black_.” Arthur said proudly. He had remembered the fact specifically to tell Meredith. 

“Wow,” she’d said as they reached her door and she dug in her bag for key, “you know a lot about polar bears, Arthur.” 

“Today at least.” He replied. She smiled and turned to Arthur. 

“Thanks for walking me home.” She said before leaning in and kissing him on the lips for a full ten seconds. Arthur was too shocked to move. She drew back and scurried into her house with a hurried goodbye. 

Arthur stood where he was, unmoving for a little longer, before grinning wildly and somehow finding his way home through his euphoric haze. _Meredith had kissed him. A girl! A girl had actually kissed him._

Carolyn knew something had happened as soon as Arthur walked, or more like floated, through the front door. 

“How’s Meredith?” she smirked, half knowing Arthur’s answer. 

“She’s, ah, brilliant.” 

 

~

 

Meredith hadn’t told Arthur that she was moving house. Her parents had bought a place further out in the country. _Well_ , Arthur thought sadly as he clenched his cold fingers while walking home alone,  _she’ll have room for a horse now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are more like chapter-ettes. But they should get longer as Arthur gets older. Hope you're enjoying them!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is two weeks later when Arthur...does it...for the first time. Well…almost.

Arthur is seventeen.

His hands were clasped loosely in his lap. The youths surrounding him looked like they belong. Like proper pilots. Arthur wanted to desperately to attend the Oxford Aviation Academy. He remembered how he felt when he’d opened the birthday card from Mum, the letter detailing his trip. How he’d fussed so much over what to wear, how Mum had helped him prepare until he was sure he was ready. Really, he was ready.

The corridor he’d found himself in that day was long, and sterile, with a door at either end. One that he came in from, and the other where he knew he would have to use every molecule of his intelligence to get to where he wanted to go. If he pulled this off, he would finally become a pilot. Arthur glanced sideways to take in the steady and cool expression of the boy next to him. He smiled and held out a slightly sweaty hand.

“Hi!”

The youth looked at him, eyebrow arching in disbelief,

“My name’s Arthur!”

The boy looked slowly from Arthur’s hand, to his wide, guileless eyes. He then moved across the corridor to a free seat. And proceeded to ignore Arthur entirely. He put his hands back in his lap. His nerves had started to make him feel a little sick. A tall imposing woman opened the door at the end of the corridor. She glanced minimally at the clipboard in her hand.

“Arthur Shappey? You’re up next.”

“Arthur Shappey?”

More silence.

“Fine,” she muttered before looking down at her list once more “Nathaniel Hamilton?”

 

The boy who had dismissed Arthur’s handshake stood and followed the woman through the door. Arthur’s heart stopped in his chest. He had frozen. He had frozen and couldn’t think of moving. _I can’t be a pilot. I can’t even stand up and walk through that door._ Arthur stood quickly before the door could open again. And he ran. His eyes began to sting. As soon as he found himself outside of the building he crouched down, wrapped his arms around his legs and wept into his knees.

_I’ve failed. Again. I can’t do anything except fail._

 -

Arthur found himself at home. Lying on the sofa. Alone. Television on, eyes glazed and unfocused.

Carolyn shuffled through the house, having heard Arthur get up and go downstairs. She pushed the door open and saw the crumpled mess her usually joyous son had become. She lifted his head from the cushion and laid it in her lap. She stroked his hair, feeling his tears dropping on her lap. She shushed him and continued stroking until he felt his breathing even out. He had fallen asleep.

  
Carolyn knew her son might never be ready. But that wouldn’t stop her wanting him to be happy. And if trying to be a pilot would make him happy, then she’d support his dream. No matter how impossible it was.

 

~~

 

It is two weeks later when Arthur..does it…for the first time. Well…almost.

 

It's not the most romantic thing that's ever happened to Arthur Shappey. It's scary. And he's not entirely sure how it got to where it did. It started with a house party.

  
He'd been working dutifully at the library. Or at least he was trying to work. It had been particularly hard that day to concentrate. He had been on his way to class when he'd been tripped up in a corridor. He hadn't even seen who did it before his nose came in full contact with the floor.

 

"Oh, sorry chaps," he apologised to the people whose way he was in, he had begun to block a corridor and his nose was bleeding as he pulled himself up, "I'll jud move-"

  
He had walked headlong into a girl. The girl. The girl he had been avoiding all year. The girl he had been avoiding all year because whenever he saw her he became a babbling buffoon.

  
"Hello, uh, Lianned, uh hi!"

He didn't expect her to respond. Much less look on his rapidly flowing nosebleed in shock.

  
"Oh God, are you okay? Poor Arthur, look come with me."

 

She took him by the arm, and led him away from the mixture of sniggers and gaping stares.

 

Lianne Salda was beautiful. The most beautiful girl Arthur had ever seen. With dark hair and dark, liquid eyes that looked as though they could see into your soul. He had noticed her in a couple of his classes, but had never spoken to her because Arthur genuinely believed that he was in love with her. From what he could tell she seemed sweet and clever and lovely.

  
She led him gently to the medical office, nodded at the nurse sitting behind her desk, and sat him down on one of the comfortable chairs.

 

"Let's see what we can do about that nose." she said as she began opening drawers and pulling out supplies.

  
Arthur tried his hardest to speak, but he couldn't. Partly because he didn't know what to say to Lianne but _mostly_ because the blood from his nose was dripping in a sickly way down his throat. He was starting to gag a little if he was honest. But he couldn't keep his eyes off the girl in front of him.

 

"Here we are!" she said brightly, holding out a wad of soft stuff and an ice-pack "You're going to have one hell of a bruise there Arthur. Spit in here."

She held out a cardboard bowl and Arthur spat out the blood that had collected in his mouth.

"Than's." He murmured sheepishly, "You're really goo' a' all thid." he continued as she applied the ice-pack without making Arthur wince.

"I should hope so! I want to be a doctor when I'm older y'know." She smiled at him, and sat down next to him. "Look Arthur, I'm really sorry about that lot, one brain-cell between the lot of them."

Arthur chuckled weakly, she was sat very, very close at this point. He could smell her shampoo. He could see in her eyes that she really was sorry.

"'s'not your faul'" Arthur replied, almost incoherently, "'s find."

"It's not fine!" She burst out, "They should know better!"

She was nibbling on her lip at this point, looking worried, but her expression brightened somewhat when she lifted the ice-pack and checked Arthur's nose.

"Well, it's not broken! But it'll be sore for a while, be careful 'kay?"

"Okay. Thanks Lianne." Arthur beamed, oblivious to the blood still drying on his chin and face. She smiled back and fetched a damp cloth.

"Here," she said, wiping him down, "you look a mess." She paused, looking at him thoughtfully, "Arthur, are you busy on Saturday night?"

 

He knew that he wasn't. Arthur never had much to do at the weekends except homework and reading about planes. He shook his head. She smiled at him.

 

"You are now." She fiddled in her bag a moment, taking out a pen and ripping a page out of a notebook she scribbled something quickly. "I'm having a house party. It'd be great to see you there."

  
Arthur couldn't find words. He nodded dumbly.

 

"Good, I'll see you there!" She said quickly, rushing out of the school nurses office without another word.

  
Arthur was elated. He was pushed twice more that day and didn't care a bit. H held the scrap of paper tight, trapped in his fingers.

 

~

 

It was hot. And sticky. And there were far too many people in the small house. It was like someone had taken the entire of the school body, doused them in sweat and alcohol and shoved them head first into Lianne's house.

Arthur couldn't decide whether he liked it or not.

 

For one thing, yes it was too loud with too many people, but one of the lads who had bullied him on occasion had come up to him and apologised. It was a slurring, confused apology - he had called him "Arthnold" - but an apology none the less.

People seemed to be too busy drinking or dancing or talking or getting off with each other to notice him.

All except Lianne. Several times she had found him, got him another drink and steered him towards a group of people... and then proceeded to promptly ignore him.

  
Arthur was confused, and after a little while he was starting to think he was also, maybe, the tiniest bit...drunk. _Ah. Whoops!_

 

He continued regardless, starting to enjoying the press of people around him, the joy coming from everyone was intoxicating. He started talking to people rather than just being there, starting asking questions and telling anyone who'd listen how he'd had an interview for the Oxford Aviation Academy.

People were drunk, and seemed to listen, though they would forget moments later what he had said. He didn't mind. He could barely remember their names most of them and the ground was being really quite silly and changing from underneath him and he felt like he needed to sit down somewhere anyway or maybe he felt sick, yes he does feel sick where is the toilet, upstairs, toilets are upstairs, stairs are hard, where's the toilet he doesn't want to be sick in Lianne's house but if he is as long as it's in the toilet it's okay, there it is.

 

Arthur didn’tt lock the door behind him and proceeded with being violently sick. He was so dizzy and the sight of himself vomiting made it all worse and he feels so stupid because he just wanted to spend some time with Lianne and-

He hadn't noticed the firm but gentle circles being rubbed into his back. In his floppy state he relaxes into the touch.

"Poor thing," he heard her voice, _oh God I don't want her to see me like this!_   "here, have some water Arthur."

  
Lianne sat him up against her side, and held a glass of water to his lips. It's the most wonderful thing he's ever tasted.

 

"Thank you. So much Lianne." Arthur manages to get out, and looking sidelong into her eyes he feels his heart thumping and throws himself in the deep end, "You are brilliant, I love you."

 

She smiled indulgently at him.

"No you don't Arthur, you're just very drunk."

"No, no, no, _no_. Well, yes I am drunk, but I do love you."

Arthur focuses entirely on her eyes. Yes he is drunk, but mostly he wants to kiss Lianne. Her lips were so close, all he had to do was lean in and-

  
Soft. Her lips are soft and...not moving and oh bloody hell she’s not kissing back, I should stop and - she's kissing back.

Arthur couldn't believe his luck, his hand found itself in her hair, that was soft too and the kiss was wonderful.

 

After a little she pulled back, eyes darkened, smiling warmly.

"C'mon." She whispered hotly in Arthur's ear, and dragged him to his feet. Her fingers intertwined with his. She helped him to his feet, he felt a hell of a lot steadier than he had before being sick. But now his stomach was fluttering for a whole different reason.

 

He found himself in Lianne's room, barely having time to take stock before being thrown down on the single bed and seized upon by Lianne.

 

It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Her lips were hot and insistent and his hands ran through her hair and down her body and his brain was swimming and he couldn't believe what he was doing.

 

Breasts. There were breasts, and his shirt was gone. When did that happen?

Her lips were on his chest, his shoulders, his stomach.

 

"I've always thought you were beautiful," Arthur manages to exhale, "and smart, and-"

 

"Arthur?" she breathed hotly in his ear. He didn't reply, he was trying his hardest just to stay conscious. "Shut up." she snapped, before latching back on Arthur's lips again.

 

And suddenly he felt scared, and his eyes were blurring, and his stomach was swimming again and he couldn't anymore. He just couldn't.

 

"Lianne, stop, stop this!" Arthur gently pulled Lianne's mouth away from his body where she had started to do some wonderfully intricate things. She looked confused, and Arthur saw that she couldn't focus on his face. She was too drunk for this, they both were. It wouldn't be fair. "Look," he said gently, "I'm not good with these word things that everyone seems to be so good with, um... This isn't right! I want to be able to kiss you and know that you'll remember it."

 

He was holding her up by her shoulders. And she...had fallen asleep. Through all the noise downstairs and the...activities they had been...doing. His brain wasn't fully there yet, but Arthur smiled and understood that he couldn't just leave her unconscious. Trying his best not to drop her, Arthur lifted Lianne gently and wrapped her in her duvet.

  
With a slightly nauseous feeling Arthur sat himself down on Lianne's floor, her closed door at his back, and promptly fell asleep.


End file.
